Yes, I know that some nights I cross your mind and I know you still love me - with all the concepts you assign to that feeling, to which I don't necessarily agree, but I do think about you as well, and love you my way, not yours.
You might carry me with you forever. I hope you will. I hope my home in you has a garden planted with flowers, with a beautiful little home and a nice veranda to sit there with you in the sun whenever you visit me.
I will carry you with me, until I'm old and senile and start to forget everything, even my sons' names, but not you.
Your home in me now is surrounded by thorn wires, but the day will come when the war will be over and I'll plant you a garden full of trees to shade you.
As for now, I'm accepting my war, because you are the war.



- LynnAA